Terry sat on his haunches on the edge of the cathedral roof and looked out across the city. He liked the ornate building. He had joked to Bruce once that he felt at home among the weird statues and gargoyles.

It felt wrong to not have Bruce's voice speaking to him now. Never before had Terry gone into the city without the background presence of his mentor. He recalled times when he had found the seemingly endless comments and criticisms annoying and it hurt to think that now he would give anything to hear even a disgruntled rebuke.

Terry had a twinge of guilt as his thoughts returned to the stranger he had brutally beaten. His first go at it alone and look what he had done.

But never again. Terry bit back on a sob and closed his eyes. Bruce was not going to regret training him.

A sudden bleeping tore Terry from his musing and he frowned in confusion; no one knew how to reach him except Bruce. He tapped at the hidden comlink on the side of his head and responded in intrigue.

"Terry?"

"Barbara? How'd you get my number?"

He heard a gentle chuckle. "You forget who I used to be, kiddo." Barbara offered and then sighed heavily. "Listen, Terry, it's … it's Bruce."

"On my way!" Terry leapt from the cathedral roof and stretched out his arms, releasing the suits wings and gliding through the buildings towards the hospital.

XXXXX

Having hurriedly changed back into his civilian clothes, Terry ran through the hospital to the intensive care unit. Barbara was there waiting for him and his heart sank as he beheld her pale, sombre face. He followed her through to a small room at the far end of the unit and sat with her on one of the couches.

The room had an atmosphere that brought bile to Terry's throat. He held his breath and clenched his teeth, suddenly feeling the purpose of the gentle pastel walls and soft furniture.

A young doctor soon entered the room and offered a soft apology.

Terry groaned a sigh. This was not good.

"We have done everything possible to help Mr Wayne …" The woman began, "But … it is becoming increasingly obvious that he will never recover."

"What?" Terry managed in a whisper. "What do you mean?" He turned to Barbara and watched her avoiding his gaze.

"Mr Wayne suffered a brain stem - " The doctor stopped herself and gave a small smile as she switched to a more colloquial language. "He had a stroke and part of his brain was deprived of oxygen and died. Without this part of the brain, it is impossible to live." She swallowed hard, "We have been very thorough and repeated the tests many times … they all come to the same conclusion."

"But," Terry stood slowly, "With all the advances in medicine and technology and – God! You guys can do anything!"

"Terry." Barbara called softly and looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, "The machines are keeping him breathing but …" She shook her head slowly, "He's already gone."

Terry regarded her in horror and could find nothing to say.

"We …" The doctor hesitated for a second, "We need permission from next of kin to withdraw care."

Terry span back at her and frowned in confusion.

"I understand you are both close friends with Mr Wayne …?"

"Yes." Barbara acknowledged.

Terry looked between the two women in silent panic.

The doctor nodded, "Would you have any idea where we can find his son?"

"Son?" Terry gasped.

Barbara closed her eyes and tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks. "Dick …" She managed, "Dick Grayson."

Terry couldn't sleep. He had been lying awake for hours, watching the minutes count by and his mind filled with a million thoughts. Turning over onto his back, he laced his hands behind his head and sighed loudly into the dark bedroom.

Ace lifted his head and gave a whimper of concern.

"You awake, too, boy?" Terry sat up and reached down to stroke the dog's head.

Ace licked Terry's arm and wriggled further up the bed.

"Now don't be getting any ideas!" Terry chuckled dryly. He could just make out the black dog's face in the darkness and watched him cock his head as Terry again gave a sigh. "What are we going to do …?" Terry asked softly.

Ace whined an answer.

Terry slid out from under the covers and smiled as Ace leapt down from the bed in eager excitement. "I need some air." Terry announced as he pulled on some clothes, "How 'bout you?"

Ace padded over to the bedroom door and wagged his tail with enthusiasm for the idea.

"Figures." Terry smiled and crept quietly from the apartment, Ace close at his heels.

XXXXX

Ace bounded back and forth along the street, savouring the scents in the still night air and pausing to investigate the alleys and lampposts in interest, glancing back regularly to check on his quiet companion.

Terry ambled along the sidewalk slowly, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders heavy. He was pulled from his thoughts by Ace's frequent return to walk beside him and he smiled at the dog's concerned face. Unsure if Ace was seeking reassurance for himself or hoping to provide some, the company was welcome all the same. It was hard to be certain that Ace knew exactly what was going on but it was all but proven by the dog's sudden pause and gentle whimper as they stopped at the end of the street.

The WayneCorp building was in darkness. Terry crossed the road and stood at the front entrance, craning his neck to look up at the immense building. A lump rose in his throat as Ace hurried forward and whined as he pawed at the glass front doors to the building.

"It's all closed." Terry offered and stepped forward to grab the dog's collar and pull him back from the sure to be alarmed doors. "Besides … no mutts allowed."

Ace strained against Terry's hold and barked at the doors in earnest.

"Hey …" Terry crouched down and wrapped his arms around the dog's thick neck. "It's okay, boy …"

Ace whined a retort.

"I know." Terry sighed and then leaned back from Ace, smiling suddenly. "Hey … you hungry?"

Ace gruffed a reply and waved his tail urgently.

XXXXX

"Hey!" The guard cried out angrily, "No dogs on the monorail!"

Terry shrugged as he sat down in the carriage and nodded towards Ace. "Tell him that."

Ace snarled a deep growl at the guard.

"Okay, okay!" The stocky man raised his hands in apology and backed off. "Maybe just this once." He turned and hurried along to the next car.

Ace settled down beside Terry's feet and sighed loudly.

Terry leaned down to stroke the dog's head fondly and then sat back as the monorail moved silently out of the station.

The argument became louder as the train moved further from the city centre. Terry turned and watched in interest as the two men fought over a small package, trying to keep their voices low.

The monorail slowed on the approach to the next stop and Terry looked away quickly from the two men as they hurried past him to the exit.

"I tell ya, it's wrong!" The taller of the two hissed as they waited for the doors to open.

"It's too late for doubts!" The other growled in reply.

The doors slid apart and the men stepped out onto the platform. It was then that Terry saw the gun that the darker man had drawn and was pressing into the ribs of the other. Terry quickly got to his feet and cursed in annoyance as the train doors closed before him and the monorail began to leave.

Ace watched in concern and barked at Terry who was now jogging back along the train to get a better look at the two men. He saw the gun being slid back into its holster and gasped as he then noticed the gold shield clipped to the man's belt. The train then picked up speed and the two men were gone from view.

"That was weird …" Terry mused, returning to Ace and frowning in thought. "Did you see that, boy?" A smile then danced on his mouth as he patted Ace's head.

Barbara Gordon sat at the desk in her small study and shook her head slowly. Taking off her glasses, she pinched her nose between thumb and forefinger and let out a long sigh. She then suddenly smiled, recalling how her father would do just the same when he was troubled.

Barbara lifted her head and her eyes sought the photograph of her father that smiled down at her from one of the bookshelves. She remembered how supportive Bruce had been when her father had died and her throat tightened. She was glad she now had the chance to repay the kindness by helping Bruce to rest.

So then why was it so hard?

Barbara looked down at the open book on her desk and stared at the telephone number she had highlighted. It was years old now and might not even be the right number.

Scolding herself for her hesitation, Barbara checked her watch and frowned in thought. It would be just after nine am in London. If he was even there.

Her heart was pounding as she dialled the long line of digits and waited. As the rings continued, unanswered, Barbara closed her eyes and prayed that – having at last mustered the courage to call – she could at least have a machine answer.

"Hello?"

Barbara held her breath as a female voice filled the earpiece.

"Hello?"

Barbara's fist tightened around the receiver. "Is Richard Grayson there, please?"

"Daddy's at work. He'll be back tonight at six o'clock. Or can I take a message?"

Daddy? Barbara's heart was pounding in her ears. Has it really been that long?

"Hello?"

Barbara was startled from her musing. "Erm … yes … could you please ask your dad to call Barbara Gordon as soon as possible."

"You're American!" The young voice was excited.

Barbara smiled, "I'm an old friend of your dad's."

"Oh, I see! I'll get hold of him as soon as I can, then."

Barbara nodded, "I'd appreciate that."

"Of course."

Barbara heard her name repeated and then dictated her phone number. "Thanks." She concluded.

"Okay! Bye bye!"

"Bye." Barbara was shaking as she put down the receiver and could not stop or explain the tears that suddenly flooded down her cheeks.

The schoolyard was noisy with activity as lessons broke for lunch and Terry walked in silence as Dana led him through the icy afternoon air. They made their way around the chattering crowds and sat at one of the wooden tables under the trees.

Terry rested his head on Dana's shoulder and moaned appreciatively as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"You didn't have to come in today," Dana offered quietly, "I'm sure they would have understood."

"I didn't really want to be alone." Terry replied wearily, "And I couldn't face going to the hospital …"

Dana murmured in sympathy, "I can't imagine what you're going through, babe …" She craned her neck to kiss the top of his head softly. "Just let me know if I can do anything."

"Just this," Terry husked and leaned closer into her embrace. "I wish …" Terry cleared his throat and closed his eyes, "I almost wish he'd died straight away … I hate clinging on to him … watching him lie there …" He sat up straight and met Dana's concerned gaze. "Is that bad …?"

Dana shook her head, no. She tucked her long black hair behind her ear and shrugged slightly, "Who knows how we're supposed to feel when something like this happens."

Terry picked at his lunch and lifted his head once in a while to offer Dana a thin smile. She was so worried about him. It had been three days since Bruce had collapsed. To Terry it seemed millennia. He was exhausted from lack of sleep and staggered about in a daze during daylight hours.

The end of recess was signalled by a long electronic bleep and Dana sighed heavily. She stood and then frowned as Terry stayed seated. "You coming?"

Terry looked up at her, "I'm really not paying attention … maybe I do need to be alone."

Dana watched Terry look away from her sadly and she blinked back tears. "Okay … I'll tell them …" Her dark eyes watched him with affection as he got to his feet.

"Thanks," Terry placed a kiss on her mouth and turned from her, "I'll call you later."